Congregation
by windwhisprer
Summary: [oneshot][SanzoGoku][AU] The first time we met, we went to each other. The second, I went to him. And the third, he came to me.


**A/N: **This was just a random idea that was bothering me. It was actually supposed to be in third person, and a hell of a lot smuttier, but Sanzo decided to flip things on me. He does that, doesn't he? And yeah, this won't be continued. This was all she wrote, so enjoy it!

And I wrote this fairly late, and I beta-ed it myself, so please excuse my mistakes.

C&C Appreciated.

**Congregation**

I only met him three times, but it was enough. He left a mark on me, a mark that will never fade. Not with the passing of time, not with the wind and the rain, and not with any soap I'll ever be able to find.

He stained me, marked me, dirtied me, and_ ruined _me. He broke me. One look and he broke me, and I will forever hate this nameless boy for what he did to me.

The first time we met; we came to each other.

I had been minding my own business. I was out getting groceries, as I did every Sunday. I had set up a schedule, a routine in my monotonous life, and I enjoyed it. It wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible, and it allowed me to relax; the only thing I ever had to worry about were "visits" from Hakkai, who always seemed to like to check back in to make sure I wasn't doing anything stupid. I never really understood why I would do something stupid in the first place; I had never done anything to make him think so. Hakkai was a worrier, so I simply left it at that.

I had been heading home—walking, of course, since cars were far too troublesome and took too much effort to run—when he ran into me. Neither of us fell but he stumbled, and on instinct I reached out to steady him. He looked dirty, like a street urchin or some homeless street-kid. But then, he looked up at me with a stupid smile and bright, golden eyes and I felt something in me crack. One look and he cracked my icy veneer. He was the only one who had been able to do that.

Brushing a strand of brown hair from his eyes, he asked, "Hey, do you have any change?"

A homeless kid. Ch', like I needed this right now. I tried to ignore him, tried to go on my way but the brat followed me home. He continued bothering me, standing out on the porch and ringing my doorbell until I finally gave up and let the brat in. I told him I'd give him a hot meal and a shower but then the brat had to go. He simply smiled at me, and nodded in understanding.

He went up and had a shower and I cooked him dinner. It wasn't anything extravagant; just some pasta and sauce I threw together. But he looked delighted when he came down into the kitchen and found the plate set out for him. Now that most of the dirt had been cleared away I could guess the kid was probably about seventeen, maybe younger. He happily thanked me and dove into his plate.

He cleaned out the entire pot.

I didn't care; at least it meant I wouldn't have any leftovers to throw out. But when I went to throw him out… the brat leaned up and kissed me. He kissed me and said it was in thanks. I wanted to push the fucking brat off, but at the scent of sexual attention my body seemed to gain a mind of its own. It had been a while, but the last thing I wanted to screw was a dirty homeless-kid.

Despite my thoughts my body pulled him closer, kissing deeply as our tongues tasted each other. What the hell was wrong with me?

We had somehow wound down the hallway, our pathway lined with clothing. We fell into the bed, and everything was a lusty-blur from then on. Our sex was dirty and quick, hard and to the point. There was no loving foreplay involved because we weren't lovers. He was thanking me for helping him and I was gratefully accepting his thanks.

I remember falling back into the sheets, absolutely exhausted. My muscles refused to work so it wasn't like I could push the brat away when he had the audacity to wrap his arms around my middle and snuggle into my chest. Instead I mumbled and insult under my breath as I allowed my eyes to close. Sleep was calling to me and I found myself succumbing to it.

"Hey," the brat whispered, his breath on my face. Lazily cracking an eye open, I found him just above my face, staring intently at me with those golden eyes that were so alluring and mysterious. I did not reply, but that didn't seem to bother the boy as he went on, "Can you… tell me your name…?"

"Sanzo," I replied lazily, not even bothering to put up a fight. Maybe if I answered him straight away, he would shut up and let me go to sleep.

He said nothing more, simply moving away from my face and falling back into the pillows. I did not ask for his name and he did not offer, but that was fine. Later I would learn that I should have asked the boy for his name, but at that time I never thought it very important, and so instead I slipped off into slumber.

When I awoke, I found the brat had deserted me, and the spot where he'd been sleeping had gone cold. His clothes had been collected from the floor and the house itself was strangely empty. I didn't think much of it at the time, the brat had gone home and I should move on with my life. Though the inkling feeling of loneliness did not dissipate for several days.

The second time we met; I went to him.

I was out late, unable to sleep. I kept having weird dreams, hearing a silent voice calling out to me. It was giving me a bloody headache, and I was tired of it. So I had stepped outside to get some fresh air. The night was still young; those most people had gone to bed. It was Wednesday, and people had to work the next day. I did too, but that was beside the point.

I headed down the street at a leisurely pace, enjoying a cigarette and swimming within my own thoughts. That was when I heard a sniffle. I wasn't sure how far I walked, nor in which direction. But the soft sobs sounded eerily familiar, so I approached the nearby alleyway.

And the brat was there! I felt like beating something, anything! I didn't know why either! But when I saw the stupid little brunet hunched over, knees drawn to his chest as he sniffled and sobbed, I lost whatever anger had settled into me. That was another thing; the brat was the only person who could ever calm me so rapidly and thoroughly without explanation. His knees were clutched tightly to his chest, his face buried in his arms. He looked too pathetically small.

So I stood there, dumbstruck for a moment before I had the mind to bend down in front of him, placing a hand on his arm. His head shot up almost instantly, his breath catching as his eyes widened with the glow of the street lamps. He seemed to recognize me, for his eyes softened and after a second he gripped my jacket, pulling himself closer and pressing his face into my chest, like he did when we first slept together weeks ago. He just clutched me, like a child seeking comfort and cried. And there was nothing I could do but squat there and hold him, completely unsure of the circumstances of why anything was happening the way it was.

I wasn't sure how long we sat there like that, but it was sometime after my legs had gone numb that he pulled away. He wiped his hand across his face, smearing tears with dirt as he stumbled to his feet. "I'm… I'm sorry…" he muttered pathetically, before he turned and bolted down the alleyway, down and corner and gone before I could even react.

And the third time we met; he came to me.

I had been sitting at home, watching TV after a long day at work when the doorbell rang. Figuring it was probably Hakkai, or my boss, I got to my feet and crossed the small house, opening the door. I was not expecting the sight that greeted me.

It was that damned brat again. But he was bleeding. His side had a large wound, and blood was everywhere. He clutched it with both hands, and he was trembling so hard it was amazing he even kept to his feet. He muttered my name before he pitched forwards. I managed to catch him, easing him down on the ground as I assessed the damage with a calm head. It was deep, and bad. Damnit I needed to call an ambulance! Rising to my feet, I grabbed the phone and quickly called for help.

I fell back next to the boy, and he clutched at me weakly. I remember telling him not to worry. That everything would be fine. Though a part of me knew they were lies. A part of me knew what was to become of the little street-kid.

"You… heard me…Sanzo…" he whispered hoarsely, eyes misting over as a small smile crept over his lips. "Just like… before…"

I remembered holding him as the sounds of sirens filled the background. I told him to be quiet. To wait. He wasn't going to die on me. I swore I would never allow anyone to die on me while I was still able to do something! And damnit, I would go to that fucking hospital and stitch up his wound myself if I had to. I wanted to know what the hell had happened. It looked like a stab wound. Who the hell wanted to stab some pathetic street-kid?

The ambulance came, and we arrived in the hospital within ten minutes.

He was taken into Emergency, and they managed to save his life. I don't know why I was so relieved. I demanded to talk to him when he woke up. I wanted to find out what happened, and mostly I wanted to learn the boy's name.

I don't know when, but I decided that I wanted to take the brat into my care. I was not going to let him walk back out into those streets and risk being stabbed again. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

The brat ran away from the hospital before I had the chance to see him. He didn't even leave a note, or anything. Not that I expected him to. It wasn't like he owed me anything.

I never saw him again.

That bothered me for reasons I will never understand. Hell, I hadn't even gotten the boy's name. He was someone who came in and out of my life in the matter of two months, and his presence was still lingering there as though I'd spent every day of the past year with him.

His golden eyes are still burnt brightly into my mind. I don't think the image of him will ever stop haunting me.


End file.
